Scottish Lass
by kimchi121
Summary: Scotland is no woman. But when mistaken for one he ends up spending time with a certain Brit. Rated T for Swearing...


**A/N:** Yeah writing out a Scottish accent was really hard. I'm sorry if it isn't consistent. But anyways I hope you like it...probably going to be multi-chapter...depends. R&R

* * *

><p>It was a beautiful day. Not a cloud to be seen which was a rare occasion. Everything was perfectly fine and dandy. Just walking along around London wearing an oversized black sweater (cause that was the only thing he could find at the moment) and a kilt with his combat boots. Scotland's hair flowing against the breeze. It had grown just past his shoulder blades. Oddly enough he heard a few whistles aimed at his direction. All coming from the lips of those from the male population. He tried to supress a shudder. He ended up walking towards the meeting hall. England was hosting the meeting today and there was plenty of time to spare. He smirked to himself. It had been a while since he's seen his brother and the other nations. He strolled in to find Germany trying to keep everyone in order. France was trying his best make a pass at Italy. Romano was calling Spain a tomato bastard like usual. Denmark was trying to get into the conversation that Romania and Norway were in. Hungary was trying not to blush at Prussia's persistent flirting. Japan was sitting as stoic as ever and Canada and America were arguing about baseball vs hockey. But that all stopped when the door of the meeting room shut. All eyes looking at the Scotsman. France was the first to react taking a hold of one of Scotland's hands. And kissing it.<p>

"Bonjour mon cherie." He flirted.

"The...fuck…" he muttered.

"It is alright. A beautiful woman such as yourself should be in the arms of a real man." he stated holding Scotland in his arms. The Scotsman was shocked to say the least. A tick had started to form on his forehead. Blood boiling. But before he could get his two cents in he was interrupted.

"Ve! A pretty lady like yourself should come with me and have pasta!" Italy exclaimed excitedly.

"Hola chica. Tú es muy bonita." Spain replied. All of a sudden Scotland was swarmed by several nations. Trying to either flirt, go on a date, get laid or all of the above. He suddenly felt someone trail their grabby hands up and down his arms and legs. He visibly shuddered and was so close to snapping and breaking some bones. The nations started arguing, seeing who would be worthy enough to have "her". Suddenly a hand grabbed his and pulled him out of the mess of guys.

"Whoa thank ye." he gasped out. He looked to see that his savior was none other than...his little brother.

"No problem. What kind of gentleman would I be if I were to leave a lady like yourself at the hands of these mongrels?" He smiled.

"Aye…" he muttered looking away from England.

"Now would you mind if I treat you to a cup of coffee?"

"Noo that actually sounds...nice." he said softly. 'What are ye doin'? Great this be a bloody braw idea. Goin' out tae coffee with yer wee brother. As a LASS.' he thought to himself. They both left the meeting room to enjoy coffee. Leaving the other nations to fight amongst themselves.

"Well I haven't introduced myself properly but my name is Arthur Kirkland. What's yours?"

"My name is um...Aggie Kinley...Pleasure tae meet ye."

"That's a wonderful name. How would you like your coffee."

"Ah ye ken. Just black with a shot of whiskey."

"Huh, funny I never thought a woman like yourself would drink something as strong as that."

"Ye dinnae ken a thing aboot me lad."

"Well I only know one other person who drinks coffee like that."

"Aye? Who would that be?"

"Oh my older brother." Scotland just sat there. Silent. He couldn't believe that the little twit remembered how he liked his coffee. Albeit he only drinks coffee like that. "But please tell me about yourself. I can guess that you're Scottish by the accent and your kilt. But traditionally men are the ones who wear them."

"Looks like yer nae a twit afterall." he smirked.

"Do you have any interests? Hobbies?" England asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Of course ah dae. I love Werd SOS and I enjoy a good swally o'whiskey, Scottish whiskey is the best kind. None of that American shite. Don't even get me started on spy movies. Sean Connery was one of the best actors to play 007." he said with a dazed look of awe. "But augh Daniel Craig….god those eyes are such a bonnie blae."

'Fuckin shite, get yer heid out of the clouds. Shite, shite, shite. Come on Alistair….no matter how charmin' the wee lil shite is...well fuck meh…'

"That's nice, great even. I too enjoy spy movies. What about literature? Do you enjoy reading?"

"Aye, it be my favourite past time. J.K. Rowling is a braw writer. The magical world of Harry Potter is quite amazin'. Ye ken, and the best part is that Hogwarts is located in Scotland." He said proudly. How he managed to keep his voice sounding feminine was beyond him. As Scotland was actually enjoying himself.

"That's bloody brilliant. Very brilliant indeed. You seem very proud of your homeland."

"Aye…also I can tell ye like magic yerself."

"True, I enjoy magic very much actually." They talked about a few miscellaneous things. It felt wrong, posing as a woman. But spending time with England, just felt so right.

"Ye ken wat? Ah really hae tae go right noo. But it's been a fine time bein' with ye." He stated and was about to make a dash for the door. Though fate was trying to be a bitch.

"Wait, we should do something like this again."

"I'm sorry lad. But ah dinnae…"

"Maybe this Saturday same place maybe around noon?"

'Oh laddy...yer killin' me. Yer killin' me.' he thought.

"I really dinnae ken…"

"Please, you'd make an Englishman very happy."

"..." England then smirked eyes gleaming with a look Scotland had only seen during his pirate days. 'Fuckin' shite….that's hot...'

"Well alright then. Ye hae yerself a date. Now I'll see ya later ye wank." He stated and left the coffee shop in a hurry.

"She is...feisty….I like that." England stated. His thoughts trailing off to his hot headed older brother. He sighed and walked out of the shop thinking about redheads and kilts.

Back at home Scotland was in his room downing as much whiskey as possible until he was drunk off his arse. Wanting to forget the day had ever happened. How the hell he looked like a lass was seriously beyond him. And on top of that...he had a date with his little brother. Not that he minded that much...but as a woman.

"Fuck my life…" he grumbled.


End file.
